


Destiny in My Own Hands

by MoriartyElias



Category: Magic: The Gathering (Card Game)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Gen, and this was also written before any card came out showing Calix's sparking, for the following reasons, makes a few references to my pre-existing alternate canon, the fans are deprived but not defeated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:49:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22197352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoriartyElias/pseuds/MoriartyElias
Summary: The story of Calix and how he became a Planeswalker, as seen through the lens of someone who isn't afraid to actually write lore for this dumb game, unlike some official companies I could mention.
Relationships: Ashiok & Calix, Ashiok & Elspeth Tirel
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	Destiny in My Own Hands

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to make it clear that this piece is very much written as though it were part of a larger work, with some minor concessions for the fact that some things would have been exposited earlier in the story if there were other story surrounding this. It was also basically written in a mad dash to get the idea out of my head, so for those reasons I apologize if it's not an especially pleasant read.
> 
> It should also be quite loudly stated that this story is canon with and makes reference to my series The Gay Magic Story, partly because that's the direction I always approach MtG writing from these days and partly because it just gives me more to work with. Don't like it? I don't care!

“I think I see the problem here.”

Calix straightened his back, and turned to the source of the noise. It was drifting above the ground, and his threads were parting around it as if blown by a light breeze. A hint of brimstone wafting through the air confirmed his suspicions.

“Ashiok.” The greeting was carefully devoid of emotion. They were a loose thread, even more vexing than Elspeth Tirel. Worse than a loose thread, they were an unknown factor. “Are you planning to interfere with my mission?”

“That depends entirely on you, dear friend.” It was a quiet voice, with an echo that reminded Calix of the days when sleep could still find him. Ashiok’s every word conjured memories of lullabies and cozy beds, which almost seemed nice until he remembered what happened when people fell asleep around Ashiok. “I merely wish to shed some light on the subject.”

“I thought that was my job,” Elspeth quipped. Calix’s fingers twitched, checking the tapestry for any weaknesses on instinct. No, she was still secure. Just… stubborn.

Ashiok was chuckling. “I did not mean that literally, Champion. I meant that I have a perspective that could prove useful to all of us, but especially to our weaver friend.”

“We are not friends.” Calix twitched a finger and crossed two threads in front of Ashiok’s eye--

Right. Ashiok.

“Regardless, you would do well to listen to me.” They were tracing a finger along the thread, and it was twitching against moments in a man’s lifetime. Calix found himself peering closer. “These threads that you carry… they aren’t just ordinary silk, are they?”

“You know this already.” The slightest twinge of annoyance. If Ashiok was trying to distract him with these meaningless questions, then Calix might as well continue his mission. “They are Destiny, the Path that Lies Before and After. They led me here. They led all of us here.”

“And yet, your tapestry is incomplete.”

Calix’s brow furrowed, and his grip on his polearm tightened. “What did you just say?”

“I said your tapestry is incomplete.” Ashiok sounded so calm, as if they believed he had been asking for a repetition. “Do you not believe me? The truth is as plain as day.”

“There is no such thing as an incomplete destiny.” The threads were tightening around Ashiok, and Calix felt no inclination to stop them. If they wanted to stand in his way, they would suffer the same fate as Elspeth.

“Show me the thread of Kytheon Iora, then, and tell me if you still believe it.”

Destiny unspooled around him, winding and dancing until the right life was playing against his fingertips. “I do not understand. He was destined to live a long and healthy life, to die saving the life of one who does not deserve it. He is hailed as a hero in death, an inspiration to all of Akros. His thread is complete.”

“If you can tell me where he was a week ago, then I’ll accept that answer and be on my way.”

Calix snorted. “Easy enough.” The thread twitched, and Calix prepared to send the annoyance on their way. All he needed to do was…

“What.”

The thread had vanished. It had been right there against his thumb a second ago, and now it was gone. Calix fought down a spike of panic, and let the thread spool up. It had to still be there, somewhere. The thread had only shown him the grave, but there must have been something before. There just had to be.

He found his answer, but it only left him with more questions.

“Khrusor. He was struck by Khrusor.”

Ashiok was smiling. They were leaning their face against the threads, and Calix could feel their smile. Was that being done on purpose? “But that wasn’t part of the plan, was it?”

“No.” Calix shifted his grip, running the thread between both hands. “He was meant to be welcomed back. When the titan fell, he would be welcomed, and Heliod would honor the promise, and he would live a long life and be an inspiration and train them up and be there to bury Hixus...”

Hixus. Another thread in his hand, but this one whole, utterly complete. And yet, tangled. Diverted from its proper path, by the same event. A life spent in grief and atonement and rage at gods that he was meant to have reconciled with. “What happened?”

“Mortal error. The designs of your precious Klothys are no more perfect than my nightmares.” Ashiok was spreading their hands wide, almost encouraging the threads to wrap around them. “We are not meant to be bound so tightly, Calix. Kytheon proved that when he threw the spear, and he proved it again when he failed to die.”

“But if he didn’t die, then what happened to the thread?” Calix could feel drops of sweat running down his forehead. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

There was a noise, a gasp of realization from Elspeth Tirel. “Kytheon was a planeswalker.” Her arms did not so much as twitch, but there was a change to the rhythm of her breathing. She was not afraid anymore. “That’s what you’re talking about, isn’t it?”

Ashiok nodded. “To the Multiverse, he became known by the name of Gideon Jura. He fought countless battles against innumerable foes, and he won every time. Until the war with Bolas came to its head, I don’t think anyone who knew him would consider him mortal.”

A hand rising, now a finger pointing, directly at Calix. “And you can’t tell me how he died, or who killed him, or why he did it. All you can tell me is that when his soul found its way here, it had erred close enough to Klothys’ design that a thread was reconnected. The thread that served as your god’s bridge out of the Underworld.”

“How did you know?” The question felt awful, like admitting to a truth that should have been a lie.

“Because I have been here before, and my hands have never been idle. I found Kytheon’s legacy, in more places than you would ever think to look. On the very same day that Akroans told me he had been struck down, something broke. There were only three witnesses to the break, but perhaps that is for the best. Because the three women who were there when the Thread of Destiny unraveled have been the very antithesis of your beloved god from that very moment.”

Calix knew the threads well. They had provided entire minutes of distraction as he followed the trail, examining how they had become intertwined with Elspeth Tirel. “You speak of the Triad of Fates. They were an unexpected factor.”

“They were Theros’ answer to the impotence of destiny.” Here at last was the venom one might expect of Ashiok’s voice from their appearance, a vicious snarl of indignation. “They decided who was Fated, and they decided what that meant. They cut where Klothys would weave and unravel, and this world was better for it. Had Kytheon’s soul stayed on Ravnica, the efforts of those three mortals would have been enough to keep your pathetic master trapped in the Underworld forever.”

Ashiok took a step forward, and Calix’s breath caught in his throat as the threads refused to resist. Ashiok was coming closer, and he could not summon the will to fight back.

“Explain.” He meant to make the word sound strong. He meant to make it sound like an order. Instead, it came out like he was begging.“Explain,” he tried again, and it somehow came out even weaker.

“Elspeth is a planeswalker, Calix. And so am I. Our threads do not begin here, and I believe our mutual friend has already proven that they will not end here.” They sighed when the threads twitched against Calix’s fingers, as though disappointed that he would require proof.

“You aren’t lying to me.” Calix held up his hands for both of them to see. Elspeth’s thread was long and still winding itself out of nothing, but it disappeared somewhere around his elbow, right around the time she had arrived… from wherever she had come from. Ashiok’s was even shorter, disappearing at his wrist and appearing for an even shorter length around the same time that Elspeth had come. “You are not from here.”

“You still don’t get it.” Elspeth was speaking now, and tugging against her binding. “We aren’t just from somewhere else. We aren’t part of your little knitting project.”

“And even more to the point, nobody else should be.” When had Ashiok’s hand made it to Calix’s throat? “As short as our threads are, you can see that they are not isolated. We have touched lives on Theros, lives that we cherish and wish to protect. Lives that must either go on, free from the grand design, or be brought to an end for the sake of one god’s bastardized concept of harmony.”

“Enough.” Calix bent his head down, blind eyes staring into an empty space. Neither of them had any real way to show if they were threatened, but he could feel the clouds between Ashiok’s horns twitch far too fast for it not to be a reaction. “Your aggression does nothing to impede me. You are attempting to threaten me. I hope you understand that the emphasis here is on ‘attempt.’”

Ashiok let him go, but there was something in how slowly their fingers parted that said that Calix’s threat had not had the impact he wanted.

“We are not destined, Calix.” Quiet, so quiet, barely more than a whisper. “You should have known this from the moment Elspeth decided her story was not over. We linger here for selfish reasons, not from cosmic obligation. I want you to understand that we are not bound to her rules.” Their hand was against his cheek. There was not so much as a flicker of warmth, but there was tenderness. “I want you to see that you don’t have to be, either.”

Despite everything, Calix leaned into the touch. His own thread crawled over his wrist, and he saw the moments that had not been planned. He saw the river crossing, how he had dragged the boat behind him simply because he had been there. He saw the goblet of wine, remembered the taste of poison and the gurgling shock of the fool king. He saw Haktos, throwing a spear that cut his thread and bought Elspeth three days.

He saw the three days that had followed, and all the beautiful excuses he had found to put aside his weaving for a few hours.

“But I still came here.” He was having trouble getting the words out, or perhaps with keeping the words in. “Kytheon still died a selfless hero and an inspiration. It will all come back in the end.”

“It doesn’t have to.” Elspeth was behind him. Elspeth was free. His weapon was within reach, if he wanted it to be.

Her hand was lingering near his shoulder. She was giving Ashiok a look. Ashiok was taking their hand away from his cheek, muttering an apology.

“It’s your choice.” She pressed her hand against a thread that had found its way between her and his shoulder, just hard enough that he would know it was there. “You choose who is allowed to get this close. You choose who gets to stay. And you can choose to leave.”

“Not like you.” Calix turned to face her, and he felt a tear gathering in his eye. He hadn’t thought he could still do that. “I’m not like you, Elspeth Tirel.”

“Nobody’s like anyone else.” She was moving now, examining his polearm. “I could kill you in a fair fight, but it’s never going to be a fair fight with you.” She ran her hand along a tangle of threads, flooding Calix’s mind with half of Meletis. “You said you can see the future with these?”

“Not quite. You’ve seen already, the tapestry is always being woven and changed. Only Klothys knows what she’s planning with the design, and even that is subject to… unexpected factors.” Calix did his best to look embarrassed. It was not a familiar emotion. “I do not simply observe the future. I change it, to suit my goals.”

Elspeth and Ashiok had not said a word during his explanation. Somehow, they managed to be even more silent when he had finished.

Ashiok was the first to speak. “You can control the future?” There was something new in their voice, a quiet awe that seemed out of place coming from such a worldly soul.

“If you want to put it that way, yes. It’s not an especially far-reaching ability, but it has its uses.” He held up a tangle for the planeswalkers to examine. “You see this? This is our fight before Ashiok showed up. Took nearly a minute to set this out.”

Elspeth was suddenly standing quite close indeed. “So that was how you were able to counter every move. You already knew how everything was going to go before I even started attacking.”

“Oh, a little earlier than that.” Pride tasted very weird on his tongue. “I wove this about a minute before I caught up to you.”

Ashiok spoke up now, brushing the amazed Elspeth to the side. “As charming as it is to hear all about how effective a combatant you are, I feel we’re all missing a very valuable piece of information.” Ashiok grabbed hold of the threads, running their fingers along the tangle until they found which one was Calix’s. They held up the frayed end of the thread, constantly growing and changing but always in the same ways. “You can change this thread. You can make it just like ours.”

Calix took the thread between two fingers, and watched. The fray came together, the thread grew longer. Moment by moment, his life was unfolding.

Concentrate. Deep breaths. Time stretching out in front of him. Every possible future was a fray in the thread, and he was the one who got to decide how they came together. Take hold of the possibilities, wind them together, tighter and tighter and thinner and thinner until there was only one possibility.

The thread was invisible now. The other two were holding their breath, waiting for the moment to happen, whatever it was. Calix reached for his polearm and made sure his grip was solid. Threading a needle blind was already hard enough, but when the tip of the thread was no longer on the same world as the needle, it got very tricky indeed.

One moment, too fast for reality to wonder if he had aimed right. A quick adjustment of the wrist, preparing to make the move. Counting down the seconds as the thread wound round and round the polearm, as time ran out.

“What does it feel like?” His own voice had never sounded so far away.

Elspeth held her tongue so long that Calix was almost afraid he wouldn’t hear her answer in time. “At the time, I thought I was dying. Might just have been the claws, though.”

Calix turned towards her, and smiled. “I hope mine goes bett--”

**Author's Note:**

> 'Destiny in My Own Hands' is unofficial Fan Content permitted under the Fan Content Policy. Not approved/endorsed by Wizards. Portions of the materials used are property of Wizards of the Coast. ©Wizards of the Coast LLC.


End file.
